


Burdens

by Lauren (notalwaysweak)



Category: Lord of the Rings (2001 2002 2003)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-09-02
Updated: 2002-09-02
Packaged: 2017-10-05 15:44:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notalwaysweak/pseuds/Lauren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Legolas and Aragorn have a late night discussion about the burdens they and others bear.</p><p>Dedicated to my Pippin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burdens

**Author's Note:**

> All characters and places mentioned herein are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien.

I don't know what awakens me, but it is the tiniest of noises -- the crack of a twig under some stealthy foot, perhaps just a cloud moving over the moon, I don't know. Either way, I am sitting bolt upright and reaching for the dagger by my head before I realise it.

You are sitting cross-legged on your folded blanket, and your dagger slips on the sharpening stone, repeating the noise that woke me. You don't seem to be watching your hands, and when one of them slips and the blade bites into your thumb, you don't seem to notice.

'Aragorn?'

You look up like a snake startled from a nap. 'Legolas. I'm keeping watch. Go back to sleep.'

There's a funny note in your voice. I don't lie back down, instead pushing the blanket off my legs and settling myself crosslegged like you. Gimli is sound asleep, snoring like an army of Orcs. Strange that he didn't keep me awake, but then I've become used to the sound.

'Aragorn, what's wrong?'

You don't answer for a while, and I start wondering if there _is_ anything wrong, but then I see the single glistening tear that snakes down from the corner of your eye to drop on your hand, mixing with the blood from your thumb, apparently stinging the cut because you hiss and lifts your hand to look at it. 'What...'

'You cut yourself. Let me get a cloth.' I hate the eager tone that's always in my voice around you, but I can't help it.

As I find a piece of cloth in my pack, soak it in water from one of the bottles, and wrap it around your thumb, you're mumbling something about heartbeats.

'What?'

'Legolas, have you ever been in love?'

I pause, still holding your hand between both my own, and look into your dark eyes, seeking for the meaning behind those words. 'Maybe. I'm not really sure. I've been too busy being brought up nicely. Learning archery, that sort of thing.

You laugh. Sort of. 'It hasn't been wasted, so far as I can see.' You pause. 'I was in love, once.'

'Oh?' Carefully guarded. 'Is it as good as they say?'

Another laugh. I'm on a roll here. 'Legolas, I honestly don't know. The tragedy of it all is that he died before I ever really got to tell him.'

'Oh, that's a shame.' Then something I missed clicks as I replay your words in my mind. 'You said "he"?'

You nod. 'Yes.' You don't seem to have noticed that I'm still holding your hand. 'I love Arwen - you must all know that by now, surely -- and I think I'm still in love with her, but over the course of our journey...' You give me a helpless look. 'Arwen has offered to give up immortality to spend her life with me.'

'Now you know why I've never fallen in love.' I swallow. 'I don't think I could ever make that sacrifice. I like living too much.' I look down at our hands, at the pale red rose blooming on the makeshift pad, and move it a little. 'It was Boromir, wasn't it?'

'Yes. At first... at first, I think I admired his strength of his convictions, even if they were totally misguided. When he first had the Ring in his hands, as we travelled, I could see it beginning to consume him -- but he gave it back to Frodo when I asked. From then on, _that_ was what I admired, even though by the end he would not have given it back so readily. But he fought its thrall so bravely for so long. When he passed, part of me died with him, for by then, I more than admired him -- I loved him.'

I don't really know what to say to this. Gimli snorts in his sleep and calls out, something about 'fish!', and this breaks the tension between us - you smile and I laugh.

'Is this so hard for you to believe, Legolas?' you ask when I have calmed.

'No! Of course not! I know it is possible that this kind of attachment forms... admiration for a companion escalates... becomes love.' I can feel my face going red and thank my lucky stars that it is yet dark.

'Legolas.'

'Yes?'

'Careful of my hand.'

I realise I'm squeezing your hand tightly between mine, see the blood oozing out from under the dressing, and ease up. I lift the cloth and look under -- it seems to be all right anyway, nothing that a few days' wait won't heal.

'Why were you sharpening your knife at this time of night, anyway?' I ask.

You look away, shame clear on your face, and doesn't answer. I figure it out for myself, become terrified by the prospect, but then know that you would not be so cowardly.

'Aragorn. Arwen might give up her immortality for you, but you don't need to give up your life for her,' I say. 'You --'

'Legolas, go back to bed,' you say.

'Aragorn --'

'Just go. We all need to rest, and your watch will come soon enough. I'll wake you in a couple of hours.' You turn me away from you and push me lightly, your hands on my shoulders gentle but firm. 'Go on.' You're treating me like a child, but I go along with it. I go and lie down, but I do not fall asleep. Instead, I am thinking.

I think I've fallen in love with you. I don't know if I just feel that way because I've spent so much time around you, but you make me feel like nobody else does. I have to confess: when I'm on watch at night I spend more time staring at you than being on guard. If we were attacked by Orcs it'd be my fault for not raising the alarm, but at least I'd die looking at something beautiful.

The one who I pity the most is Boromir. Dead, of course, but that's not the reason; the reason is that he never really believed in you until the end. It took the knowledge that he was dying to realise that you were worth following after all. And of course you gave him a hero's farewell despite his treachery -- your forgiving soul gave him that much on his deathbed, to know that he was forgiven and would be remembered. And then you bent forward and kissed him goodbye.

For the last few nights I've been imagining what it must have been like. Those three terrible arrows piercing _my_ body, _my_ breath coming in shallow gasps... and your lips softly touching _my_ forehead as you bid me farewell.

I've worshipped you all along. Why can't I be so honoured?

The Orcs slipped away like the cowards that they are, bearing Merry and Pippin with them, and though you didn't confirm until later, Sam and Frodo had already left in one of the boats, striking out for Mordor alone. Your decision was to let them go, for us to come with you and try and save Merry and Pippin from whatever fate awaited them at the hands of the Orcs. Gimli was only too ready to do anything that meant he could chop a few heads off with that axe of his.

I was only too ready to do anything that involved following you wherever you led.

Forget this. You may be treating me like a child; very well, I'll act like one.

'Aragorn, I can't sleep.'

You chuckle lightly, as if you've been expecting this. 'Get up then.'

_I already am_, I don't say, not feeling like being quite so crude. Gimli is still asleep -- this is extremely evident given how loudly he is snoring -- as I crawl out from underneath my blanket and come back around the dying fire to sit by you.

'Why can't you sleep?'

'I hardly ever sleep,' I say. 'I don't need it. Besides, I think we should move on as quickly as possible. Every hour we tarry is another hour they gain on us.'

'They're Orcs. They're not so fast.' You laugh and put your dagger away.

'Their pace is quickened by fear,' I say. 'Not of us, but of the dark powers that they serve. They'll be travelling hard.'

'But without rest, we'll not travel far. You hear Gimli. He's exhausted,' you say.

I accept your words. And we sit in silence for a long moment, staring into the fire -- at least you are; I'm staring at you -- listening to its crackle, hearing the night sounds of the forest, thinking, thinking of what? are you thinking of Arwen? are you thinking of Arwen while I'm thinking of you?

'Legolas?'

'Yes?'

'Are you all right?'

I summon a response from somewhere. 'Yes. I was just thinking of Frodo and Sam. How far do you think they have gone?'

'Not far enough, not yet... the Ring is such a great burden for such small people to bear. Would that I had been able to accompany them all the way!' You sigh.

The trouble with beginning any journey is assuming that everyone will end it. Gandalf's end has already come. Ours might come in the next few days or weeks. I move a little closer to you.

'But you can't, and like it or not, you're here with Gimli and I. We have our own burden... think of Merry and Pippin, we're going to rescue them. You would not have let Frodo go alone if you did not think he could complete the task.'

Somewhere, miles away, two barefoot little people toil over murderous lands.

'You're right, Legolas.' You heave a sigh and lie back down on your blanket, staring up at the unforgiving stars. 'You're right. But if I'm wrong, then I must bear _that_ burden.'

'Life is a series of challenges, Aragorn. Our mission in life is to face them, and win them over. You could not have done more than you have.'

'I could have gone with them.'

'Or been killed by Orcs. Without you to hold off the Orc attack, Frodo and Sam would never have escaped. Accept what is done. Look to the future. We still have work to do.' I can see that your face is lined with weariness by the light of the moon. 'Sleep, now. You need it. I don't.'

You nod, too tired now to argue, and close your eyes. I watch you a minute longer, until your breathing shallows out into the rhythm of sleep, then turn away and stare into the darkness of the forest at night. Animals make their stealthy ways through the trees, an owl calls from far off, and I wonder just how long it will be before you can shed all these burdens you carry.


End file.
